Murder in the Blood (3 page)

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Authors: Lesley Cookman

BOOK: Murder in the Blood
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The group stood up and said goodbye to their fellow guests, but as they stepped out on to the beach road, the senior Jandarma officer came up behind them with Jimmy trailing in his wake.

‘He says he will want to talk to you again,' said Jimmy. ‘Something Mr Parnham said.'

The officer gave a curt nod and strode past them to his blue van. His two cohorts scampered after him.

‘What's Mr Parnham's other name?' asked Fran.

‘Neal, I think. This is the first time he's been here.' Jimmy turned back to the bar. ‘I shall see you later.'

‘And what could Neal Parnham have said about us that would make the Jandarma want to speak to us again?' said Libby, watching the blue van turn round at the end of the bay to make its way back along the road and out of the village.

‘Next time we see him we'll ask him,' said Ben. ‘Come on woman. I'm starving.'

Fifty yards from the hotel, Abdi's tiny courtyard restaurant just about had room to fit them in.

‘You eat outside everywhere here, don't you?' said Libby, sniffing appetising smells wafting from the kitchen at the back.

‘Except when it rains,' said Guy. ‘I remember getting drenched here once.'

Abdi was another local who remembered Guy from years before. He handed round menus.

‘He did. We took him into the kitchen.' He beamed round the table. ‘Now, what would you like to drink?'

It was just as they were paying their bill that Libby spotted Neal Parnham on his way back to the hotel.

‘I'm going after him,' she said, grabbing her bag and colliding with chairs.

She caught up with him just before he reached the hotel.

‘Mr Parnham!' she panted. ‘Neal. Can I have a word?'

He turned. ‘What about?'

Libby frowned. ‘Well, what do you think?' she said, breathing a little easier. ‘You told us you'd met the – er – body, and now the Jandarma want to talk to us again. Because of something you said. What did you say?'

Neal Parnham's face lengthened even more.

‘I – oh. It's so difficult when he doesn't speak English.'

‘Or you don't speak Turkish. It's their country,' said Libby.

Parnham looked at his feet. ‘Yes, of course. But he misunderstood – or Jimmy did. I said this man knew other English tourists in the village. The dead man, I mean.'

‘And he thought you meant us? But you would have pointed us out, surely?'

‘But I said I didn't know who they were.' Neal Parnham looked up. ‘I'm sorry if I've put you in a difficult position.'

Libby sighed. ‘Oh, that's all right. I see now how it happened. But how exactly did you come to meet him? Greta and Tom said they thought you knew someone in the village. It wasn't him, was it?'

‘Not – well, not exactly.'

Libby noticed the others coming up behind. She took Neal's arm. ‘Come on. Come in and have a drink with us. You look as though you could do with some company.'

He looked round at the six smiling faces and seemed to relax. ‘That would be good, thank you.'

Greta and Tom were sitting at a table with Lady Pink Hair and her bushy-moustached husband, who appeared to be taking no part in the conversation, merely looking as if he had a bad smell under his nose. Probably rising from his moustache, thought Libby.

Greta raised a hand and smiled, but Libby was already shepherding her party to a table near the pool.

‘Tell us where you met the dead man,' said Fran, when they were settled in their seats and Peter and Harry had gone for drinks. ‘You have a friend in the village?'

‘Yes. Well, someone I met here, actually.' Neal sat back in his chair and took off his straw trilby. ‘Before you came.'

‘How long have you been here?' asked Libby.

‘Three weeks. I'm on a sort of extended break.' Neal looked up and smiled as Harry put a beer glass before him. ‘Thank you.'

‘When are you going home?' asked Libby. ‘Sorry if I'm being nosy …'

‘She's always nosy,' said Ben. ‘Sorry.'

Neal, now looking much more relaxed, smiled again. ‘Oh, I don't mind. It was just so horrible being questioned and … well, when they showed me that photograph …'

‘A shock,' said Fran. ‘Of course it was. So you met him –?'

‘Chap I met on the beach, Justin, has a house in the village. He invited me for lunch and dinner a couple of times, and introduced us.'

‘And he's an English resident?'

‘Yes, there's quite a little group of ex-pats here.'

‘And he knows other visitors?' said Guy.

‘Oh, yes. They were talking about the regulars – the people who come back every year. I gather that those people do.' Neal indicated Greta and Tom.

‘And did they know the same people?' asked Libby.

‘Oh, there seem to be some who everyone knows. And they all have their particular hotels.'

‘I always stayed here,' said Guy. ‘Well, I only came twice, but it was always to this hotel.'

‘This is your first time here, is it?' Fran asked Neal.

‘Yes. I came across it on the internet and thought it looked – well, quiet. Not touristy.'

‘That's why people come back year after year,' said Guy. ‘It costs more than a package holiday, but the fact that it's such a long way from the airport keeps most of the tour operators away.'

‘The average punter doesn't like much more than a half-hour journey from airport to hotel,' said Harry. ‘Must say, I'd come back if I could get the time off.'

‘What do you do?' asked Neal.

‘He's a chef,' said Libby. ‘With his own restaurant. So he can't afford to close it often.'

‘Did you tell the Jandarma about your friend Justin?' asked Peter.

‘I had to, didn't I? I felt very guilty. That was why – well, I was a bit rude earlier.'

‘You know,' said Libby, ‘if this is a British-based crime, then I don't think the Jandarma are going to solve it.'

Neal looked startled, but everyone else groaned.

‘Well, it stands to reason, doesn't it?' said Libby. ‘They didn't know how to question us, and there's the language barrier …'

‘So you think you ought to investigate,' said Ben. ‘How did I guess?'

‘I think Libby could be right,' said Fran. ‘After all –'

‘Wait a bit!' interrupted Neal. ‘Investigate? What do you mean?'

Libby looked embarrassed.

‘At home, I'm afraid Libby and Fran have rather a reputation,' Peter started to explain.

‘For looking into murders,' continued Harry.

‘I don't believe it!' Neal Parnham's eyes were wide. ‘That sort of thing only happens in books.'

‘Well – yes,' agreed Libby. ‘But we still do it.'

‘Mainly Libby,' said Fran. ‘I'm merely the back stop.'

‘No you're not …' Libby broke off at Fran's warning look.

‘Anyway, the police usually get the answer before we do,' Fran continued smoothly. ‘But that's the British police. If this is a murder within the ex-pat community, the local forces are going to be at a loss, surely?'

Neal Parnham's lean face expressed wariness and doubt. ‘I've no idea. I don't know anything about life out here.'

‘It wouldn't hurt to talk to the people he knew, would it?' said Guy.

‘But on what pretext?' asked Ben sensibly. ‘Introduce Libby and Fran as private investigators? Hardly.'

‘No – as the people who found the body!' said Libby triumphantly. ‘Nobody would question that!'

‘I don't know.' Neal looked down at the table. ‘Seems a bit –'

‘Intrusive,' suggested Ben. ‘I know.'

A silence fell.

‘Neal!' A new voice called from outside the bar. Neal looked up and smiled.

‘Well, that solves that problem,' he said, standing up. ‘Justin, come in. Have a drink.'

Everyone turned round. A tall, dark-haired man in a checked shirt and light trousers, a sweater thrown over his shoulders, hesitated outside.

‘Please,' said Harry, also standing. ‘Come in and have a drink.'

Neal Parnham moved round the table to take the newcomer's elbow and guide him to a chair.

‘Justin, these are my fellow guests here at Jimmy's. They found the body this afternoon.'

‘Libby Sarjeant.' Libby held out her hand. ‘And we can't keep saying “the body”. Who was the poor man?'

‘Alec Wilson.' Justin shook her hand looking bewildered. ‘Um …'

‘Beer?' asked Neal. ‘Anyone else?'

Ben and Guy went with him to the bar.

‘I'm sorry if we've come as a bit of a shock. I'm Fran Wolfe. That's my husband Guy, the one with the beard.' Fran smiled her gentle smile.

‘Harry Price.' Harry stuck out a hand. ‘And this is Peter Parker.'

The three men looked at one another and Libby realised that they'd recognised something in each other. Which, in turn made her look across at Neal Parnham at the bar. Harry followed her gaze.

‘Didn't you realise?' Harry said with a grin. ‘Getting slow on the uptake, petal.'

‘I don't see why it should matter,' said Libby, somewhat huffily.

‘I do,' said Peter. ‘There could be another community under investigation here, as well as the ex-pats. And that might be even worse.'

Neal, Ben, and Guy arrived back at the table with drinks.

‘Pete thinks there might be more at stake here than just the ex-pats,' said Harry bluntly. ‘I agree with him.'

Neal and Justin exchanged worried looks, then Justin looked round at the company.

‘I'm not sure I know who you are, or why you're interested. Neal says you found Alec's body – '

‘Believe it or not, these two …' Neal paused, then indicated Libby and Fran, ‘
ladies
are real life Miss Marples.'

‘Oh, please,' said Libby, disgusted.

Fran looked amused, shrugged and picked up her glass.

Justin looked at Peter. ‘You think the gay community might come under suspicion?'

Ben and Guy looked surprised.

‘Don't you?' Peter raised an eyebrow. ‘I gather Alec was gay, too?'

Justin nodded.

‘Did the Jandarma come to see you see you earlier?' asked Harry.

‘Yes.' Justin glanced at Neal, who blushed.

‘Sorry.'

‘Couldn't be helped.' Justin turned to Libby. ‘Do you know how they knew who he was?'

‘Yes, we do,' said Ben. ‘He had a bag tied to his belt with his passport inside. We saw his picture. That was how Neal recognised him.'

Justin nodded. ‘And they knew he lived here?'

‘Neal told them he'd met him with you,' said Harry.

‘Yes.' Justin turned back to Fran and Libby. ‘Do you think there's something going on?'

‘Well, he was murdered,' said Libby. ‘Fran and I weren't sure that the Jandarma are equipped to tackle an investigation in the English – or rather, the ex-pat community.'

‘You're right there.' Justin's mouth quirked up at the corner. ‘They'll have to get someone from Kumlucca – and they haven't even got a mortuary.'

‘Will they repatriate his body?' asked Fran.

‘I wouldn't have thought so.'

‘What about forensics?' asked Libby.

‘Oh, they've got a regional crime laboratory.'

‘They'll send the body there, then?' said Guy.

‘If they can be persuaded to.' Justin sighed. ‘The local Jandarma aren't used to dealing with this sort of thing, and as you know, over here, the bodies are buried as soon as possible.'

‘They can't do that!' Libby burst out. ‘Without any examination?'

‘The consulate in Antalya,' said Justin. ‘That would be where to start.'

‘Had he any family in England?' asked Fran. ‘They would be the people to ask, surely.'

‘Well, now,' said Justin slowly. ‘That's just the problem. He didn't have, but now, it seems, he has.'

Chapter Four

‘What do you mean? Now he has?' asked Harry.

Libby looked across at him anxiously. It wasn't so long ago that Harry had found out about his own background.

‘He was adopted,' Justin explained, ‘and recently his birth mother found him.'

Peter, Libby, Fran, Ben, and Guy all looked at Harry.

‘Yes, all right,' he said. ‘I can relate to that. Something similar happened to me. So what did he do? Did he meet her?'

‘Yes, he flew to England.'

‘And what happened next?' asked Libby. ‘Are they keeping in touch? Were there any brothers or sisters? What about the father?'

Justin looked taken aback. ‘I don't really know. He didn't talk about it much.'

Neal frowned. ‘Isn't that a bit odd? If he told you about her in the first place?'

‘Maybe.' Now Justin was looking uncomfortable. ‘But I wasn't that close to him, you know. Martha and Ismet were his best friends, really, apart from Sally. The Jandarma are going to talk to them, too.'

Libby looked round at her friends, who all shook their heads.

‘You want to talk to them, too,' said Neal, watching her.

Libby felt heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks.

‘I don't see how that's going to help,' said Justin. ‘This lady doesn't know any of us, and didn't know Alec.'

‘But now you know he has family in England, they ought to be contacted,' said Fran. ‘Will the Jandarma do that?'

‘I don't know.' Justin's expression had reverted to bewildered. ‘Only if someone tells them about the mother, I suppose.'

‘Well,' said Libby, ‘someone ought to. He'll have told someone her name, surely?'

‘Maybe Martha,' said Justin. ‘He didn't have a partner, so there was no one close.'

‘You ought to ask Martha to tell the Jandarma if she knows,' said Neal.

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